


And He Yells...

by lickmymccracken (orphan_account)



Series: And He Yells... [1]
Category: My Chemical Romance, The Used
Genre: AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-01
Updated: 2013-03-16
Packaged: 2017-12-03 17:48:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 21,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/700984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/lickmymccracken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bert is a spirited 19 year old just trying to have fun in life. But when he meets a mysterious guy outside of a club he can't get into and wants to learn more about him, things go terribly wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Getting a fake ID wasn't hard. Not in the part of town Bert spent his time in. It was almost as easy as it was to find liquor, or pot. The hard part was finding a club that didn't have a bouncer who could see how terribly fake his ID was. Bert had been to nearly every club in the area tonight, and not one of them would let him in. The fact that he even needed a fake ID was an irritating one. He was nearly 19 now, but every club in the area was 21 and over. All he wanted was a cool place to get some good liquor and maybe find a good fuck.  
  
"Jesus fucking Christ!" Bert cursed after he'd been thrown out of the last club he could find. He kicked an empty beer can and started walking back towards home, mumbling under his breath about how "fucking stupid and retarded and fucking ugh" this was. The can bounced off a wall and into an alley. It was nearly 3 am now, meaning everything not under a street lamp was pitch black. Most normal people would be scared as shit to walk around a town swimming in crime at this house, but Bert didn't care. He could take anyone who came at him (or at least his pocket knife could).  
  
As he passed the alley, and can rolled back out into the light of the street. Bert stopped walking and stared at the can. "Who's there?" He called, reaching to his back pocket where his knife lay. There was no answer, but Bert could swear he heard a foot step. He pulled out the small blade and opened it. "Don't fucking mess with me man!" He called out, but his voice sounded more scared than menacing. Suddenly, there was laughter from the alley, Bert tightened his grip on the knife at his side.   
  
"Jesus, kid, calm down." The guy the laughter was coming from stepped out of the shadows and leaned against the corner of the brick building next to him. Bert just stared, keeping his blade ready at his side. The guy looked normal enough (sort of). He had black hair, the kind that was perfectly messy, like he just rolled out of bed. His skin was pale, paler than Bert's, and looked amazingly smooth. Bert had no idea who the fuck this guy was, or where he came from. He had on a white v-neck shirt and fucking skin-tight black jeans. He also had on a big trench coat thing, only then did Bert remember that it was February. He just smirked at Bert and shook his head.  
  
"What!" Bert demanded, hating the feeling of being mocked. The guys just laughed more and took a step forward. Bert tensed and stuck out his knife. "Fuck, kid. Put that thing down. I'm not a rapist 'er anything." He said, and Bert had no idea why, but he complied. The man just smiled at him and stuck his hands in the coat thingy. "Stop fucking smirking at me." Ber said, glaring at him.   
  
"You sure are a spirited thing." The man said, and Bert growled in reply. "Listen, I'm not gonna hurt you. I was just leaving that club back there and I saw you getting kicked out. Using a fake ID, eh? How old are you anyway?" Bert stood up a little straighter and stared the guy right in the eyes. They were an amazing green.   
  
"Twenty-four." Bert replied, and the man just laughed at him. "Hey fuck you!" Bert called and turned to walk away. He head the guy stop laughing and walk after him. He caught his shoulder and Bert reached for his pocket again. "Sorry, didn't mean to laugh but... You just look so young. You can't be a day over 18." "Nineteen, not that it's any of your fucking business." Bert snapped. "Fine, fine, Nineteen. I'm Gerard."   
  
Gerard. It was almost funny how much the name suited him. Bert tentatively reached out and shook Gerard's outstretched hand. "Bert." He said with a nod, and gave Gerard's hand a slight shake. "Well, Bert," Gerard said with a smile, and now Bert could see how small his teeth were. It was adorable. "Why were you trying to get into the club anyway?"   
  
Sighing, Bert shifted his weight between legs. "J'st looking for something to drink and some fun... y'know?" He said, not meeting Gerard's eager gaze. "Fun?" Gerard said, voice thick with an innuendo. Bert snapped his eyes up, glaring at Gerard. "Hey, I'm not judging. Not saying I've never picked up a guy at a bar." Bert nearly smiled, but controlled himself. Gerard was gay, and getting slightly less irritating by the second. "And as for liquor," He continued, "I doubt a club is the only place you can get it, especially in these parts."  
  
"Are you from around here?" Bert asked, unable to stop his mouth from forming the question. "No, I live in the next town over." Gerard replied, without a seconds thought. He was so calm about everything, it kind of annoyed Bert. But it also intrigued him. He wanted to know more about this guy...  
  
"Listen," Gerard said, breaking Bert's train of thought. "This is gonna sound really skeezy and annoying, but... You wanna come back to mine?" Bert could feel a smile creeping onto his lips, just a small tug at the corner, but it was enough of an answer for Gerard. "Great! My car is just down the block."  
  
Bert had no idea what was happening, but Gerard had his wrist in his hand and was pulling him down the street to his car. Bert was expecting a clunker, but this was the farthest thing from it. Gerard owned a very recent model black Dogde four-door with tinted windows and black rims. "Fuck." He breathed, staring in awe at the beautiful machine. Gerard just smiled and hopped in the drivers seat, Bert following him in the passenger side.   
  
Gerard started the engine, adjusted his mirror, and hit a button on the his door. All of the locks in the car clicked locked, and Bert's stomach dropped. "G--Gerard...?" Bert asked, slowly tearing his eyes from the door and the lock. Gerard's eyes locked with Bert's. They looked almost black now, not the amazing green they were back in the street. "Gerard." Bert tried again, but Gerard just smiled this wicked, stomach churning snake smile. Bert wanted to scream, thrash around, call for help. Something told him it would be no use. He opened his mouth to try and ask Gerard what the fuck was going on, but the second his lips parted, Gerard was pressing his own into them, practically choking Bert with his tongue.  
  
Gerard pulled back and Bert was breathless, shocked. His lips were swollen and wet with saliva (not sure of whose it was though). Gerard smiled another bone chilling smile and put the car in reverse, pulling into the street. "Wh-what do you want with me." Bert whimpered. Gerard giggled and moved the car into Drive, speeding down the street.  
  
"You're mine now, Bert."


	2. Chapter 2

The car ride was a blur to Bert. He couldn't tell how long he was stuck in the car, but the digital clock on the dashboard said it had been well over two hours. Bert figured Gerard lied about living in the next town over, since they had passed it 2 hours ago. He curled himself into a ball, wedged himself into the corner of his seat, and cried. Bert's mind turned to the worst. This guy was a maniac. He was going to kill him or rape him or both (hopefully in that order). Bert was going to die, a 19 year old virgin who got lured into some weird guy's car because he wanted to know why he was so weird. How could he have been so stupid? Anyone with half a brain knew not to get into a strangers car. Bert's stomach lurched and he felt like he was going to throw up.

Gerard was disgustingly calm the entire ride. Bert wanted to yell, scream in his face, and get some kind of reaction from the guy. After another hour passed by, he did. He just yelled and yelled nothing actually comprehensible besides a few "fuck!"s and "help!!!"s. Gerard cracked another smile and even chuckled behind the wheel. Bert's throat felt raw and abused but he kept yelling, sobbing, banging against the windows. When it felt like he couldn’t scream any more, Gerard slowed the car, and pulled over onto the side of the rode. The sun was coming up on the horizon, and there wasn’t a single car on the road. Gerard unlocked his door, stepped out of the car, and disappeared around the back of the car.

Bert trembled in his seat, still wedged against the door. He craned his neck to try and see where the maniac went, when his door opened and he spilled out of the car. Bert stared up at Gerard, his face was puffy and pink from crying. Gerard's was stern and stoic. "Wh--" Bert started to ask, coming out more of a whimper, but Gerard silenced him by grabbing a fist full of his hair and pulling him up to his knees. Bert cried out, reaching up to claw at Gerard's hand with his chewed off fingernails.

"Stop!" Gerard yelled, and Bert snapped to attention, scared down to his core. Gerard slightly loosened his grip on Bert's hair, but not much. He glared down at Bert's pink face and smiled. It was the same smile he pulled when they were back on the street outside the club, but now Bert could see the eerie look in his eyes, what he could only assume was blood lust.

 

"What d--" Bert tried again, but Gerard tugged his hair harder, making Bert cry out again. "You only speak when I address you, understand?" Gerard said, and Bert stared back in confusion. Gerard bent over and yelled in Bert's face. "DO YOU UNDERSTAND?!"

Bert flinched and whimpered, nodding slightly. Gerard didn't look any happier. "And when I address you, you will answer me nicely, and as Sir. If you don't follow my rules, this will be much harder than it needs to be." His voice was still disgustingly calm, his face stern. Bert was slowly starting to understand. If he wanted to get out of this alive (though he didn't think there was a very high chance of him getting out of this at all), he needed to do exactly what Gerard said. That would prove to be extremely difficult for Bert, who was stubborn by nature and swore like a sailor. Gerard spoke again, "Do you understand me, Bert?" and Bert did as he was told and replied with "Yes, Sir." which bought him a big grin from Gerard.

He was instructed to stand up and get back in the car, and to stay completely silent for the rest of the ride, "Or else." Shaking like a leaf, Bert got to his feet when Gerard let go of his hair, and climbed back into the passenger seat. The door closed and locked again, and Bert curled back into his corner, petting down his hair, trying not to wince at the fire in his scalp. Gerard opened the trunk and then came back into the car. Bert could see something in his hand, but his head was swimming and he couldn't make out what it was. His captor started the car and turned to Bert.

"Hold out your hands." He said, and Bert slowly held out his hands which were shaking terribly. Gerard closed a hand cuff around his right wrist, not loose enough to slip around his hand, but not tight enough to cause discomfort. He locked the other cuff around the gear shift so that Bert's arm was stretched across his body.

"You'll be a good boy, won't you Bert?" Gerard cooed, smiling sweetly at Bert. He flinched and nodded, quickly opening his mouth as he saw Gerard's smile vanish "Yes, Sir." Gerard nodded and pet his head, then pulled onto the road and drove off for another half an hour.

 

\------

 

Bert could hardly keep his eyes open by the time the car slowed to a stop on the side of the rode. His eyes were super-glued to a random spot on the dashboard and there was a dull aching in his shoulder and wrist. Bert didn't hear when Gerard got out of the car, and didn't return for ten minutes. But when he did, he opened the door, and Bert nearly fell out once again, had it not been for his arm anchoring him to the car.

"We're stopping here." Gerard said, and Bert rubbed his eyes with his free hand. "Where are we?" He asked, forgetting the rules. His eyes shot open and his spun his head around to apologize a thousand times, praying to whoever was making the calls up there to let him not kill him here. Gerard just shook his head and unlocked the handcuff around the gear shift. He quickly closed it around Bert's other wrist and took the chain in his fist. Gerard ordered Bert out of the car, and to stay directly off his left shoulder, as close as possible. Once Bert was up, standing unsteadily, Gerard leaned in and whispered in his ear. "Your punishment will come later."

Gerard checked them into a motel, not a cheap one, and paid with cash. Bert looked down at the floor the entire time Gerard was happily chatting away with the man behind the desk, but he could feel the man staring at him. Gerard just tightened his grip on Bert's cuffs, making them press harder into his skin, and laughed. Finally, they stopped talking, and Gerard told Bert to "Come on, our room is on the second floor, sweetie." The pet name threw him off slightly, but he obeyed, holding in a small whimper.

 Their room wasn't small, but it wasn't big either. It had a queen sized bed and a couch when you first walked in, a dinette towards the back, and a TV against the wall. There was a door that Bert assumed lead to a bathroom, but he didn't get close enough to see. Gerard turned around in front of him, not letting go of the chain, and pressed himself against Bert. He was at least a head taller than Bert and his chin rested on Bert's head. Gerard sighed and wrapped his free arm around Bert's waist. "I thought you understood, Bert..." He breathed against his scalp. Bert stifled a shudder, and started to reply.

"Y-Yes, S--" Gerard slid his hand up to Bert neck and grabbed a fistful of his hair again. He tugged hard, forcing Bert's head backwards, exposing his pale neck. Gerard pressed his face into it, and breathed deeply. Bert whimpered, struggling to keep his balance. Gerard hissed and ran his lips along Bert's Adam's apple. "Oh, Bert..." He mumbled against the flushed skin, Bert tried to swallow, tears running down his face. "I'm not going to punish you just yet...No, not yet..." Gerard moved his lips to Bert's jaw. He wasn't kissing him, no, just running his lips across his skin, as if to test the waters first.

Gerard pulled away and Bert almost fell over. "Get undressed." Gerard said, sitting on the foot of the bed and staring at Bert, who was in shock. "What! I'm not--" Bert protested, but Gerard's face told him that he'd better do it and do it quickly, or something really bad would happen. Continuing to cry, Bert unbuttoned his shorts (yes, he still worse shorts in February) and pulled them down. Gerard unlocked one cuff for him to take his shirt off, and then locked him right back up. Bert looked at Gerard with tear filled eyes, silently asking if he was done. Gerard slowly shook his head, and nodded at Bert.

"N-no, please, no, no!" Bert cried. He didn't care how much Gerard kissed him or hurt him or any of that. But he didn't want to let him take him like this. He would NOT lose his virginity to this psycho. As Bert sobbed and pleaded, Gerard stood up and harshly slapped Bert across the face. Bert fell to the ground and held his breath, bracing himself for another blow. Gerard just stood over him. "You do NOT say no to me." He said quietly, and told Bert once more, to take off his boxers. Poor sniveling Bert rolled onto his knees and stood up, shaking hard. He slowly pushed down his boxers and stepped out of them, cupping himself to try and hide from Gerard who was smiling like a Cheshire cat.

"Don't hide, Bert." He said sweetly, catching Bert's chin in his fingertips and tilting his head up until he looked at him. Bert was a skinny little thing. He didn't have much muscle to him, but he wasn't all skin and bones. Gerard took in all of his milky skin, noticing then the small tattoo on his left pinky finger. Gerard frowned. "I don't like tattoos." He said, but left it for later. Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Gerard smiled down at Bert once more and grabbed his hand. "Come on." He said, and Bert knew it was a command. He followed Gerard into what he rightfully guessed was the bathroom.

The bathroom was collectively nicer than the room itself. It looked as if it had just been redone with very modern fixtures and a huge bathtub. Bert looked up at Gerard, eyes wide and scared. Gerard just smiled back and slid his hand around Bert's waist.

 

"See, Bert. Here's the thing. You're mine now, but we've already established that part. I'm a good man; I know how to take care of my things. And to be honest, Bert…You smell. You're a bit grimy, and I could make French fries with the amount of grease in your hair. But now that you're mine," He tightened his grip on Bert's hip bone. "I'm going to take care of it."

 

\------ 

 

It took a whole lot of yelling and another red, stinging hand print on Bert face to get him into the bath tub. The water was hot and steamy and it felt good on Bert's skin, but he wouldn't admit that. Gerard hand his hand cuffs looped high enough around a pipe that his arms were above his head. It was extremely uncomfortable, but the water was soothing, and it was only to be expected that Gerard would have him tied up like this.

 

Gerard took his time bathing Bert, and he absolutely hated it. He felt like a child. While he squirmed around and veered away from Gerard's touch at first, the warm water and today's events were making him very tired, and he just couldn't find the strength or drive to fight back anymore. Gerard took pride in this accomplishment, and continued to scrub at Bert's grimy body until the entire room smelled of conflicting soaps and shampoos and conditioners and Bert's skin was raw and pink. Gerard drained the tub, pulled Bert to his feet, and dried him off. Bert stared through half-lidded red-rimmed eyes and didn't even flinch when Gerard traces his hands down Bert's torso.

He'd been torn down to this submissive little rodent, an almost polar opposite of what he used to be. Gerard told him that his life was going to be amazing now. That he was going to be glad Gerard wanted to keep him, and would learn to follow directions quickly. Bert just nodded tiredly and stumbled along behind him.

 

"Are you tired, Bert?" Gerard asked, and Bert almost didn't hear him. He nodded before quietly saying "Yes, Sir." Gerard told him to lay down on the floor next to the bed, and Bert almost protested, but he was too tired and didn't want to test Gerard more than he already had. The carpet was scratchy and uncomfortable against Bert's skin. Gerard didn't let him put his clothes back on. One handcuff was removed from around his wrist and closed around the post of the bed. The lights flicked off, and Bert could hear Gerard shedding his clothes and climbing into the soft blankets on the bed. He couldn't keep his eyes open any longer, but just before he drifted into a deep, dreamless sleep, Bert heard Gerard whisper "Good night, Bert." Bert didn't even realize it when he mumbled a quiet

"Yes, Sir."


	3. Chapter 3

Bert woke up the next morning sore and unrested. He tossed and turned all night, scratching his skin on the cheap carpet and straining his wrist and shoulder due to the cuff. Bert could see the red lines on his skin from the harsh metal. Why couldn’t Gerard be psychotic with some soft hand cuffs instead of these shitty police cuffs? Speaking of Gerard, Bert didn’t see him anywhere. He leaned up to look over the bed. It looked like no even had even slept in it. Bert lay back on the floor and listened carefully. Maybe Gerard was in the bathroom. There was nothing but silence.

“Gerard?” Bert called out knowing he’d get punished for calling Gerard but his first name; he just needed to know if he was here. Silence. “Gerard?” Bert called louder, but there was no answer. Gerard wasn’t here. Did he leave Bert? Bert stared at the ceiling, heart pounding in his chest. He didn’t know what to do. He had no idea where he was or if anyone was around or if Gerard was ever coming back. He could die here, naked, hand cuffed to the bottom of a bed in some sleazy motel with a good bathroom.

“HELLLPPPP!!!!” Bert screamed at the top of his lungs. “SOMEONE HELP ME!!! HELPPPPPPP!!! FUUUUCCCCCKKKKK!!!!” He screamed more and more, his voice often trailing off into a sob. He called out and cried until his throat was raw and it hurt to even breathe through his mouth. Bert just lay there and sobbed for he didn’t know how long. He tugged at the hand cuff until he felt it break skin and blood started to trickle down his arm and then he cried harder. He tried to push the bed up and pull the other cuff out from underneath it, but the bed was bolted to the floor.

Bert couldn’t tell how much time had gone by when Gerard finally showed up. He was a mess, still sniveling on the ground with blood running down his arm. Gerard put down the bags he had in his arm and shook his head at Bert. He was only half awake, eyes closed but ears alert. When Gerard kneeled next to Bert, he started thrashing around and screaming again.

“DON’T FUCKING TOUCH ME!! DON’T TOUCH ME YOU ASSHOLE FUCKING PSYCHOTIC MANIAC!! SOMEONE HELP ME!! SOMEONE FUCKING HELP!!!” Gerard stood up and walked out of Bert’s line of view. He heard the door open and close and suddenly he was alone again. He was infuriated. How could Gerard just see him there and then leave! “GERARD!!!!” Bert screamed as loud as he could, and suddenly the door opened and Gerard walked back into the room. His footsteps were heavy and angry, as if he weighed twice was Bert guessed he did. Gerard stood over him one again and unlocked the cuff around the bed. Gerard pulled Bert up by his bloody wrist and laid him on the bed on his stomach. Gerard cuffed his hands behind his back and pulled a bunch of cloth from his pocket. Bert opened his mouth to spit another slew of curses at Gerard, but his captor shoved the balled up fabric into his mouth. Bert yelled into the fabric, thrashing around, and Gerard just tied another strip of fabric around his head, securing the fabric in his mouth.

Then it hit Bert. Gerard was  _gagging_ him. Bert tried to yell again but the sound was so small and quiet from the gag. He cried, sobbing and choking from the lack of air but he couldn’t get his brain to make him breath out of his nose. Gerard tied the last piece of cloth around his eyes and Bert felt himself losing consciousness. He let out one last tiny sob before his entire body relaxed and he passed out.

\-----

Bert woke up and it as dark in the room except for the two table lamps. He was lying on the bed now, still naked with his hands cuffed in front of him and his feet tied together at the ankles and the knees. Bert looked down at his hands and saw that his wrist was bandaged up with gauze and his arm was clean. His mouth was still gagged, but now just with the strip of black fabric tightly tied around his mouth, nothing shoved into his throat. Bert turned his head towards a sound in the dinette and he saw Gerard standing at the counter, opening what looked like take out containers. Bert’s stomach growled loudly, he hadn’t eaten since yesterday morning, and that was just half a bagel. The sound alerted Gerard and he looked over at Bert, immediately smiling sweetly.

“Hi, Bert.” He said, walking over to the bed with the take out container in his hand. Gerard sat down on the edge of the bed and Bert whimpered, looking down at the food. “Thought you might be hungry.” Gerard said and opened up the Styrofoam container. Inside was filled with French fries and a little cup of mac and cheese. Bert’s eyes widened and he whimpered again. “Are you hungry, Bert?” Gerard asked and Bert replied around his gag. Gerard smiled proudly, “Good boy.” and untied the gag. He helped Bert sit up and sat next to him cross-legged. Slowly, Gerard fed Bert everything in the container, getting up to get him a glass of water to wash it down. Bert smiled for the first time in over almost 36 hours after he downed the tall glass of tap water.

“That’s a good boy.” Gerard said softly and pet Bert’s hair. It was soft now, not greasy and sticky like yesterday. Gerard tugged softly at Bert’s hair and he looked up in response. “Bert, you get to learn tonight.” Gerard’s eyes shined with something devious and Bert wanted to cower in fear, but stayed still and locked eyes with Gerard.

He was instructed to get off the bed and get on his knees on the floor. Gerard untied the fabric around his knees and helped him onto the floor. Bert was visibly shaking, as he saw Gerard reach for his zipper. Bert looked up at Gerard with big eyes, quickly filling with tears. Gerard just smiled down at him and ran his fingers through Bert’s hair, gripping it behind his head. Bert whimpered and stared in horror as Gerard pulled his dick out of his jeans (which looked a lot easier than Bert thought it would be considering how tight all of Gerard’s pants were).

“Daddy is gonna show you how to make him feel good.” Gerard said, tugging Bert’s head back slightly. His eyes stayed locked with Gerard’s, not wanting to look down and see Gerard’s cock pressing against his lips. Gerard frowned a bit, tugging Bert’s hair harder. “Open.” He commanded. Bert whimpered and the first tears streamed down his face, he opened his mouth slowly until it was wide. “Good boy. You want Daddy’s cock in your mouth?” Gerard said, pressing the tip onto Bert’s tongue. Bert whined and more tears fell down his face. Gerard decided that was a good enough answer and pushed down on Bert’s tongue again. Bert squeezed his eyes shut and Gerard pushed himself into Bert’s mouth as far as he would let him.

“Open wider.” He commanded and Bert complied. Gerard pushed until he felt himself hit the back of Bert’s throat and his body tensed and he choked. Gerard pulled back an inch or two and told Bert to relax his throat or this won’t get any easier. Bert tried not to sob and relaxed his throat, Gerard pushed into him once more. This time, Bert didn’t choke until Gerard pushed almost all the way in. But it was more violent now; he coughed and spat on the ground. Gerard pulled him back up and smoother his hair back. Bert whimpered and opened his mouth again without having to be told. 

Things went much smoother now. Gerard slid himself into Bert’s mouth all the way down to the base, and Bert didn’t choke at all. Gerard stayed there, quietly hissing and petting Bert hair. “Swallow.” He commanded, and Bert was confused. “Swallow!”  He said louder, and Bert tried to swallow around Gerard dick, earning a long groan from the man above him. Gerard slowly started to move his hips, just a few inches in then out of Bert’s open mouth. Bert stared up at Gerard’s face, hard with concentration. Without warning Gerard thrust roughly into Bert’s mouth, making him whine around his width. He gripped the back of Bert’s head with both hands, pulling him forward in time with his thrusts. Bert squeezed his eyes shut and endured it, listening to Gerard’s grunts and hisses breaking off into a quiet moan.

Gerard finally broke off; pulling Bert’s hair as he quickly fisted his dick until he came with a loud grunt, all over Bert’s face. Bert filched and cried out, squeezing his eyes shut as not to get any in his eye. Gerard breathlessly commanded him to open his mouth again, and cleaned himself off on Bert’s tongue. Gerard put himself back in his pants and padded off to the kitchen, leaving Bert by the bed, covered in quickly cooling semen. Gerard came back with a warm wash cloth, and cleaned off Bert’s face. When his eyes opened and stared into Gerard’s he couldn’t help but smile down at his pet. “You were such a good boy for Daddy.” Gerard said. “I’ll bet you can’t wait to learn more tomorrow.” 


	4. Chapter 4

Bert was told to sleep on the floor again that night. Gerard didn’t until his legs and this time hooked the chain of the hand cuffs around the bed post so that Bert couldn’t hurt himself as badly if he tried to escape. Bert was forced to sleep on his side because of the cuffs, and he could feel the carpet rubbing his skin raw. Just like the night before, Gerard whispered good night just as Bert was falling asleep, but tonight he told him, “You’re going to make Daddy so proud.”

This whole “Daddy” thing seriously creeped Bert out. He was never actually close with his own father, sometimes resented him even. When he left home, he told his dad to go fuck himself and then walked out. He didn’t regret it one bit, but now to have Gerard calling himself “Daddy” made him grateful that he didn’t have a stronger relationship with his father, or it would have made this all the more traumatizing. Not that any of what was happening wasn’t traumatizing in itself.

Bert had three nightmares that night. The first was of a twenty foot tall Gerard standing over him and shoving a chainsaw down his throat. Bert woke up whimpering in a cold sweat. Gerard was still fast asleep above him. Next, he dreamt of himself growing older and older, just chained to the bed and never moving. Eventually, all of the skin on his side that was against the carpet rubbed off almost like a snake’s skin, leaving the old and grey Bert screaming in pain. As scary as all of the nightmares were, the last one was by far the worst:

The sun was shining in on the carpet where Bert lay; he was smiling happily as the birds chirped. Gerard walked by him wearing the same outfit he wore when they met in the alley. His eyes were bright green like a granny smith apple when he smiled down at Bert who sat up and smiled cheerily back. Bert made grabby hands up at Gerard and he helped him to stand up. Bert couldn’t understand why he would need Gerard’s help to stand up, until he saw how thin Dream Bert had gotten. His hip bones and ribs stuck out behind deathly pale skin, peppered with small bruises and burns on his right side. Dream Bert clung to Dream Gerard’s torso and mewled, nuzzling his chest. Dream Gerard pushed him back and Bert was shocked to see that his dream counterpart could actually stand on his own. Dream Gerard scolded him for clinging and Dream Bert just nodded and apologized, “Pet is sorry, Daddy. He won’t do that again.” Dream Gerard smiled and gave Dream Bert permission to kiss him. Dream Bert jumped at the chance and kissed Gerard sweetly on the lips, Gerard didn’t reciprocate the action. In his sleep, Bert felt like he was going to throw up. Dream Gerard petted Dream Bert’s head and told him he would be home in a few hours. Dream Bert whimpered and curled himself into a ball next to the bed. Gerard walked out of the room and as soon as the door clicked locked, Dream Bert started to cry, whimpering about missing his Daddy.

Bert’s eyes snapped open and he could hardly breathe. His stomach lurched and he tugged violently at his cuffs. “G-GERARD!” He called out, dry heaving and coughing on the floor. Gerard snapped awake and looked down at Bert. He quickly pulled the key to his cuffs from around his neck and freed his arms. Bert scrambled to the bathroom and threw up into the toilet, sobbing loudly. Gerard came in shortly after and stood over Bert. He saw him lift his hand and Bert cried out, afraid Gerard would hit him

“I’m s-sorry!” He cried, gripping to the porcelain seat. “I’m sorry!” Gerard rested his hand on Bert’s back, softly rubbing circles into it.  Bert spit into the toilet and tried to calm his breathing. Gerard just shushed him and continued to rub his back. When Bert had stopped heaving, Gerard helped him over to the bed, cuffed one hand to the headboard, and tucked him into the soft, billowy blankets. He brought Bert a glass of water and told him he was going to go get food. Gerard left the room and Bert slowly drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

\-----

Gerard came back with a container of soup from a Chinese restaurant for Bert and some dumplings for himself. He sat next to Bert and fed him the hot soup, Bert accepting gratefully. Gerard sat and talked to Bert while eating his dumplings after Bert was finished.

“I don’t want you to hate me, Bert.” Bert had only just started listening to what Gerard was saying. At first he just babbled about some book he was reading before they had met. He sounded happy, talking as if this were an everyday topic. “I never wanted that at all. And I don’t think you do either.  You just need to get used to me. I can tell you’re going to be very good at listening, Bert. And you don’t talk back to me, which is really good. We are going to have a lot of fun together, you know.” Gerard patted Bert’s head. “And you’re going to learn to really enjoy our lives together. I know it.”

Bert didn’t want to listen to Gerard. He didn’t want to believe anything he was saying; it was all a load of bullshit in his head. Gerard was just some psychopath that kidnapped him for sex. He would get bored of him sooner or later. “Bert?” Gerard asked, and Bert knew it was his queue to start talking. “Yes…? Sir.” Bert said, catching himself at the end. “Tell me about yourself.” Gerard answered, and it was a command, not a question.

“W-what do you want to know, Sir?” Bert asked quietly, looking down at his hand. Gerard lifted his chin, silently telling him to keep eye contact. “What do you like to do for fun?” Gerard asked him, and a sarcastic voice in the back of Bert’s mind said ‘Not psychotic old men’. “I—I like to listen to music… And drink, a-and sometimes I s-smoke.” Gerard slowly shook his head. Bert was confused, was this not the answer he was looking for? Was he disappointed that Bert didn’t have a move interesting life?

“Drinking and smoking are very bad.” Gerard said. Bert almost scoffed in his face. He had smelled the liquor on Gerard’s breath the night they met, and he saw the pack of cigarettes he kept in his coat pocket and in his car. Hypocrite, he thought. “You’re not going to do any of that anymore.” He told him, and Bert just nodded slowly. A roaring silence settled around them, and Bert was happy that Gerard wasn’t trying to talk anymore.

Just as he was getting relaxed, snuggling up in the blankets, Gerard spoke again. “Do you like boys, Bert?” Bert sputtered. “W-What, Sir?!” He asked, staring at Gerard in horror. Gerard’s face was calm and stoic, a mask of no emotion. “You hear me, Bert. Don’t ask stupid questions.” Bert felt his face get hot and he slowly turned bright red. He had kissed a few guys before, sure. And of course, he had thought that Gerard was cute when he first met him (boy, what a misjudgment of character), but Bert never thought of himself as gay or bisexual or anything now that he thought about it. “I, I don’t know, Sir.” Bert replied and started to chew on one of his fingernails. It was a nasty habit he started a long time ago and was never really able to quit. Gerard caught him by the wrist and pulled his hand away from his mouth.

“That is a disgusting habit, Bert.” He said sternly. “Don’t do it again.” Bert just stared back at Gerard, silently asking for him to let go. Gerard dropped his hand and instead cupped the side of Bert’s face. He leaned in close to Bert and nudged his nose against his.  “Open your mouth.” He said, and Bert flinched because he was so close, but his voice didn’t get any lower in volume. He opened his mouth and Gerard connected their mouths, pushing his tongue past Bert’s teeth just like in the car, practically choking him. Bert made a choked off sound in his mouth and let Gerard probe around his mouth. He pulled back and took Bert’s face in his hand, saliva glistening on Bert’s lips. “Tell me that you don’t like boys, Bert.” Gerard commanded. Bert repeated the statement, ending with his usual “Sir”. And Gerard dug his nails into Bert’s face.

“Tell me that you only like me, Bert.” 


	5. Chapter 5

*“I only like you, Sir.” Bert said quietly as Gerard pushes his hands into Bert’s hair, scratching his nails across his scalp.  Gerard pressed his nose into Bert’s hair and hissed quietly, letting his breath out in Bert’s face. “You want to learn more today, don’t you Bert?” He asked, but it didn’t need an answer. Bert would be forced into whatever “lesson” Gerard had for him no matter what he answered. Bert nodded anyway and Gerard pulled back.

“You’re going to be so smart when daddy is done teaching you these things, Bert. Do you know how lucky you are?” Gerard moved Bert so that he was sitting up and got to his knees. “Maybe Daddy will give you a reward tonight too.” Gerard said as he reached for his zipper, easily sliding it down and wiggling his jeans down his hips a bit. “Do you know what you’re gonna do for Daddy, Bert?” Bert nodded slowly, having some idea of what was in his immediate future.

“Oh _do_ you?” A disturbingly evil grin spread across Gerard’s face. “Tell me.” He said and grabbed Bert’s face in on hand, squeezing tightly. Bert stared up at him, blue eyes wide and quickly filling with tears. “What the matter Bert?!” Gerard said, getting up in Bert’s face. “Cat got your tongue, Bert? That just won’t do! No, not one bit! You need your tongue don’t you Bert?” Bert let one sob escape his throat and Gerard let out a loud laugh. Bert decided it was the most terrifying sound he’s ever heard in his life. Gerard let go of Bert’s face and sat back up on his knees, pulling his half-hard cock from his boxers.

“Open.” Gerard commanded just like the night before. Bert opened his mouth slightly, knowing he shouldn’t be testing Gerard like this, but too scared to force himself any wider. Gerard brought his hand up to his hand and slapped Bert across the face. “Open-your-goddamn-fucking-mouth-right-now.” Gerard said in one long growl. Bert kept his free hand at his side, resisting the urge to cup his stinging cheek. He opened his mouth wider this time and Gerard pushed himself into his mouth like the night before. This time he didn’t continue to thrust though. Gerard instructed Bert to start sucking, and he obliged. Tears slowly trickled down his hot face as Bert modestly hollowed his cheeks.

“I bet this isn’t the first time you’ve sucked dick, is it Bert? You’re a little slut aren’t you?” Gerard gripped the back of Bert’s head and pushed him further down his cock. Bert made a small sound in the back of his throat as his nose crushed against Gerard, but he didn’t stop sucking. “Use your tongue.” Gerard said breathlessly and Bert pressed his tongue onto the underside of his dick. Even if Gerard didn’t believe him, he hadn’t ever given head before. He had his own cock sucked once or twice at a party by some drunken girl (possibly a guy, but who’s to know?). That was his only reference to go by, how he remembered getting sucked off those few times. If it got him off the hook, he would let Gerard think he was the biggest whore in the world.

Bert pulled back a bit and sucked at the tip, lapping at the slit. Gerard pulled his hair tighter and groaned in his throat. “Dirtyfuckingslut.” He breathed out, pushing Bert’s head down again. Bert swallowed around him like he did yesterday. He just wanted to make Gerard finish so he could get away from him, but somewhere deep down in his chest there was a longing for the soft praise Gerard gave him afterwards; The pat on the head and soft cooing words of thanks. Bert pushed the feeling farther down and brought his focus back to Gerard who was cursing up a storm. Bert hadn’t realized he’d moved his free hand up to softly massage at Gerard’s balls.

Before either of them knew it Gerard was releasing in Bert’s mouth. “Swallow!” Gerard yelled between moans. Bert followed orders and continued to suck and tongue at him. The want for praise pushed itself up into his throat when Gerard pulled away, forcing him to look up at Gerard with big eyes, silently asking if he was good.

“You’re such a good boy, Bert.” Gerard said, tucking himself back into his boxers and jeans then sitting in front of Bert. “Daddy is proud of you.” He whispered and Bert bent his head down for Gerard to pet it, leaning up into the touch.

The sudden change of heart caught Gerard completely off guard. He thought it was going to take much longer than this for Bert to break down to even half of this level. He should have known Bert was something different from the second he saw him though. He was a broken kid, it was obvious. He was perfect, Gerard thought to himself as he pushed Bert onto his back with a soft thud. A perfect pliable piece of clay for Gerard to mold and soften and mash then leave out in the sun to dry only slightly, then start all over. Gerard stared down at Bert calmly, eyes scanning over his slightly pink, pale, skin. His arm dangled tiredly in the air, held up by the cuff around his bandaged wrist.

“Get up.” He ordered, and Bert sat back up, only for Gerard to push him back down, grinning viciously. Bert whimpered causing Gerard’s grin to grow. Gerard’s power was terrifying to Bert, but the look in his eyes was all pride; this is my thing and I can do with it what I want because he is so good. Bert’s chest flushed pink and he pulled at his restraint, bicep flexing strongly. Gerard licked his lips and ran a hand down Bert’s chest, stopping to pinch at a nipple briefly.

Gerard got up off the bed and instructed Bert to sit up again. “You need another bath, Bert. All this learning is making you dirty again and you know Daddy hates it when his things are dirty.” Gerard unlocked Bert’s cuff and dragged him to the bathroom. He bathed Bert just like before, cuffing him up all the while. Bert whined quietly as Gerard’s nails scraped across his scalp the burning sensation becoming a pleasurable one. Gerard took note of the sound and repeated the action, the younger pressing up into his hand. Gerard moved his hand down Bert’s back, leaving long dark pink streaks where his nails connected with Bert’s skin. He arched under Gerard’s touch, whining again. His nails scraped across nearly every section of Bert’s skin, moving from his shoulders to his chest, then stomach, then hips. Bert’s face was flushed bright pink and he couldn’t ignore how each scratch made a fire ignite below his belly button.

By the time Bert had opened his eyes, his dick was half hard, just from the pain alone. Gerard noticed long before he did and was looking at him with a stern face, as if it was wrong of him to be turned on like this. Bert thought he might hit him or scold him for it, but Gerard leaned over the tub and grabbed Bert’s wet hair roughly.

“You’re such a slut, Bert.” He hissed, and pulled Bert’s head back to expose his throat. “If you like pain that much all you had to do was say…” He whispered and pressed his other hand onto Bert’s throat, digging his nails into the back of his neck, his thumb teasingly pressing on his Adam’s apple. Bert stared back wide-eyed. “You like it when Daddy hurts you Bert?” He pressed down on his neck and Bert made a quiet coking noise, Gerard grinned wildly, green eyes going wide with excitement. “OH GOD! I really hit the jackpot, didn’t I, Bert? My pet likes it when his Daddy chokes him!”

Bert thought Gerard might jump into the tub with him soon. He just smiled wickedly, eyes flicking between his hand on Bert’s neck and Bert’s eyes. He whimpered as Gerard’s hand loosened up on his neck, pushing his hips up out of the water. “P-Please.” He begged quietly, surprised at how desperate his voice sounded. Gerard went wild, he laughed loudly, tossing his head back and everything. “Oh, Bert! You really are a slut! A dirty fucking desperate slut, yes you are! But you know what?!” Gerard was yelling now, on his feet, gripping the sides of the tub. Gerard leaned in, his nose almost touching Bert’s. His voice dropped to a whisper. “You get nothing, Bert. You don’t get to touch yourself, and you _definitely_  don’t get to come. Do you understand me, Bert?” He swallowed thick, face bright red and opened his mouth to answer.

“Yes, Daddy.” 


	6. Chapter 6

One day Gerard came storming into the room. Bert was still fast asleep on the floor as usual; naked and curled into a ball, a peaceful expression blanketed over his features. He jumped at the sound of the slamming door, sitting up and painfully yanking at the cuffs around his wrists on accident. Bert stared, eyes impossibly wide, at Gerard, huffing around and yanking their things from the closet and dressers. Bert didn't dare open his mouth, he could visibly see what he thought was rage, maybe blood lust, on Gerard's skin. Suddenly he stopped dead in his tracks, turned his head to look at Bert, and for some strange reason, he seemed to calm down a bit. Bert shot him a questioning look, but Gerard just came over, unlocked his cuffs, and stood back up. Bert looked at him again, confusion written all over his face. Shouldn't he be locking his cuffs again?

"I need you to follow my directions carefully and quickly. Nod if you understand." His voice was stiff, to the point, and Bert nodded quickly as soon as Gerard asked him to. "Good, now you are going to get dressed, not in the clothes you wore here, take mine. Okay? What are you waiting for, Go!" Bert scrambled to his feet, and went to the pile of clothes Gerard and thrown on the floor in his fit. He pulled out a navy blue shirt and a big pair of jeans. Gerard wasn't many sizes bigger than Bert, but the jeans hung dangerously low on his thin hips. Gerard had stopped shoving things into a duffle bag, and was staring at Bert as he pulled the t-shirt over his head. His eyes flicked to his wrists. They both had thick, red rings around them, cuts just starting to heal from where he had pulled his cuffs too hard. "Jacket." Was all Gerard said before Bert caught on and grabbed a big thick hoodie from the pile and zipped it up, safely hiding his marred wrists and a few fresh, deep bite marks on his forearm. They weren't from Gerard though, not at all. Gerard had only ever bit him in the neck and shoulders.

Quite the contrary to be honest. In the past week, Gerard had taken to torturing Bert in a different way. Since the bathtub incident, Gerard had decided he would give Bert what he wanted. Well, mostly. The day after, he didn't touch Bert at all, didn't even look at him. But the day after that, Bert got the wakeup call of a lifetime.

He had slept on his back that night, unusual for him, but Gerard had turned the heat on to an inhuman temperature and he was getting swampy dick laying on his stomach. About halfway through the night, Gerard shut off the heat, let the room cool down. Bert didn't know it but he smiled sweetly in his sleep and sighed something almost angelic when his body temperature went down to normal. Gerard didn't go back to sleep, but stared intensely at Bert, waiting for the right moment. As the sun began to rise, Bert hadn't so much as stirred. Gerard climbed off the high perched bed and slowly pushed Bert's thighs apart. Leaning over, he pushed a single finger into Bert's mouth, making his eyes flutter open. He started to ask what was happening, but Gerard shook his head, face cold as stone, and Bert knew to suck on the finger pressing against his tongue. Gerard pulled it out slowly, a string of spit landing on Bert's chin. Gerard trailed the finger down his chest, flicking a nipple on the way down. Bert stifled a whine, bit down on his lip roughly. Gerard brought the finger to his ass, lifted on leg onto his shoulder, and pressed it in as far as one knuckle. Bert clenched and gasped, obviously not used to the intrusion, Gerard shot him a stern look and Bert tried to relax, the finger pressed all the way in. Bert stared, wide eyed at the ceiling, gnawing his lip furiously. Gerard instructed him to stop that at the exact same moment that he began to move his finger in and out of Bert. He gasped, arched his back, and squeezed his eyes shut. He had never felt this before. It was painful, but wonderful. Gerard's finger worked in and out, kinking up and turning inside him. The burn was almost unbearable, and Gerard knew it. Bert cried out and latched his teeth around the skin on his forearm. 

Gerard waited until Bert found pleasure in it. When he started to arch his back and blood started pumping into his dick, he stopped, went on with his day as if it had never happened. But it did happen, every morning that week to be precise; Gerard would wake Bert up with a finger in his ass, steadily stretching him each day. But for some reason, he wouldn't do anything else. Even when Gerard would hit the spot that make fireworks go off in Bert's spinal cord, causing a chain reaction in his nether regions, Gerard paid no attention. Bert wondered if he even wanted to fuck him. It kept him up at night, made his chest ache with desperation. What was wrong with him? Didn't Gerard want him? Didn't he pick him for a reason? Didn't he want him? It took so much for Bert not to cry, he often held his breath until he passed out, just to get away from the agonizing thoughts clouding his forebrain. 

Now that everything was packed, and Bert and Gerard were both dressed, Gerard nearly shoved the younger out the door, not bothering to cuff him. Instead he grabbed hold of the back of Bert's neck, a good portion of hair, and held it tightly. Bert knew that shouldn't have caused a stirring in his jeans, but swallowed thickly, trying to ignore it as Gerard led him down to the lobby, kept his head down as Gerard slid his hand onto Bert's shoulder to hold him dearly, and say Goodbye to the woman working at the front desk of the motel. Bert also knew he shouldn't have eased into Gerard's touch, and definitely shouldn't have leant into his chest, nuzzling him the tiniest bit. He knew he would get hell for it. But somehow, he didn't care. It felt then like Gerard's actually wanted him, that he loved him. Bert knew deep down he definitely did love him, how could he not? He did pick him after all. 

After Gerard stopped chatting with the woman behind the desk, he pulled Bert out to his car. The sight of the beautiful black car flooded memories of just weeks ago into Bert's mind. Gerard stopped them a few feet from the doors. "Listen to me carefully. You are to get in the back seat, and not to say a single word. I swear to fucking god I will kill you if you don’t listen. Got me?" Gerard's face was hard as stone like usual, but there was something else. Oh, how Bert wished he could read Gerard as easily as he seems to do to him. He knew that Gerard wouldn't /really/ kill him... But Bert nodded slowly and let Gerard shove him towards the door. He tugged the heavy car door open and clenched his jaw as not to gasp at the sight. In the other seat sat another boy, maybe 22, unconscious and gagged with some torn piece of cloth. He had dark hair stuck to his forehead, and what Bert thought was a tattoo on his neck. He arms were tied in front of him, and Bert could only assume his feet were also tied. He realized he had been frozen there and quickly sat down in the backseat, as far from the other boy as he could get.  Gerard climbed into the driver's seat and started the engine, then peeled out of the lot as quickly as possible. "You are to stay completely quiet until I say so." he said when the car pulled onto the highway. Bert didn't move, didn't look into the rear-view mirror or even so much as nod. He couldn't tear his view away from the boy. He wanted to know who he was, and what the fuck he was doing here. Why did Gerard take him? He already had Bert; it made no sense. 

The boy didn't wake up the entire car ride. Bert had no clue where they were headed, and an hour into the ride, he began to get restless. He fidgeted around in his seat; moving around into different positions, staying there for a few minutes and then moving to a different position. He noticed how Gerard's eyes would flick up to the rear-view mirror and glare at him each time he moved, how the muscles in his jaw clenched and his fingers tightened around the steering wheel. He stopped immediately, fearing what Gerard might do if he didn't. 

An hour and a half into the car ride, the boy groaned softly, his body arching half a millimeter. Both Gerard and Bert's heads spun to stare at him. Bert's eyes were confused, questioning; was he waking up? Gerard's were frantic, screaming panic. But the boy didn't so much as make another peep after that. Despite that, Bert noticed how Gerard picked up speed, even on the dangerous back roads, as if he wanted to get to the destination before the boy even had a chance to make another sound. 

Another fifteen minutes later, they stopped in front of a house in God-knows-where. It wasn't a particularly special house, something you wouldn't look at twice. Except for the fact that the grass needed to be cut a bit, it was very nicely kept. Two concrete steps leading up to a solid wood front door, no porch, but an awning over the door. The windows had thick blinds drawn behind them, the kinds that were meant to keep heat in in the winter and the sun out in the summer. Bert had his hands pressed to the glass of the car window, staring intently at the quaint home. Was this Gerard's house? If not, whose was it? Bert hadn't heard Gerard get out of the car, but he whipped his head around when the door opposite his opened. Gerard carefully looked around before lifting the unconscious boy from his seat and carrying him to the house bridal-style. Gerard disappeared into the house with him and a wave of jealousy crashed over Bert. He felt a bead of sweat roll down his neck and he tried to swallow around the boulder in his larynx. What felt like hours (actually only about five minutes) passed, Bert let out a whimper, "What about me..." he whispered, his hot breath fogging the glass of the window. He slunk down in his seat, hugging his knees to his chest. In that moment, the car door opened and Gerard leaned over to peer in. His face read both confusion and anger. "Get up." he said and Bert sat up in his seat. "Hands." he said and Bert pushed up the sleeves of his sweatshirt, held out his marred wrists to Gerard. This time there were no handcuffs, but zip-ties. They were tight around his wrists, but he accepted them, and Gerard led him into the house. 

It was pitching black, Bert assumed it was due to those thick curtains. He was pushed roughly through the house to a door. Cool air rushed to Bert's face as Gerard opened it and flicked on a light. They were at the top of a flight of stairs, probably leading to a basement. "Go down stairs, sit on the bed, and stay there. You are not to touch anything without permission. If you try to remove your restraints you will be punished. The same goes for him." Gerard shut the door harshly as Bert took the first step. From the other side of the door, Gerard called, "I will be back in exactly one hour. If anything has gone wrong there will be serious consequences." and then he was gone. Bert took the stairs all the way down. The basement was like another, much smaller home. It had a bed that converted to a sofa, a coffee table, a wooden desk in the corner with drawers with locks on them, a fridge with a lock on it and a door that he assumed led to a bathroom. Bert paid no mind to any of it. He sat on the bed and scanned his eyes around the bare walls. It was eerily silent until there was a small groan. Bert whipped his head around trying to find the source. It was only then that he remembered about the other boy. "Hello?" he called, quietly. There was a muffled reply coming from a dark corner. Bert hopped of the bed, springs squeaking, and went over there.

Sure enough, there sat the boy, eyes half lidded, slumping against the wall. Bert shakily brought his hands to the boy’s mouth and pulled the gag down. He took a desperate breath, as if he hadn't tasted air in years. "Who are you?!" he asked once he was done sucking down the musky air. Bert stood up straight and glared at him. "Who are _you_  ?!" he retorted. His name was Frank, Bert learned. "I'm Bert..." he told Frank, who just nodded and squirmed in his spot. "Can-- Can you help me up, kid?" Frank asked, and though Bert didn't appreciate the 'kid' comment, he did. He didn't look /that/ young, did he?

Bert sat Frank on the bed next to him, and stared for a few minutes. He wasn't pale, more of a light tan color. Like his heritage (Italian? Greek?) was fighting for control over the lack of sunlight. His eyes were a hazel-green (Nothing, compared to Bert's, or so he thought) and rimmed with dark eyelashes. After a few minutes, Bert decided he was definitely Italian. Frank finally noticed him staring, and snapped at him. "The fuck are you staring at?!" Bert spat back. "The fuck's your problem?!" he hadn't done anything wrong. Somehow, Frank realized this, and retreated. "Sorry," he started, Bert nodded. "Just... Freaked, y'know? Do you...you know where we are?" Bert reluctantly shook his head, "Not a clue..." 

As minutes ticked by, Bert and Frank talked more. About life, dreams, regrets. Frank was from New Jersey, he was in Nevada on a vacation, after he dropped out of college. "Not for me, y'know?" Bert knew. "I was flunking everything, only way I could get a good grade was by fucking my teachers." Bert didn't know that part. "I didn't mind, just kinda tuned out. Sex is sex right? I was doing some of that in Vegas for a bit..." He sounded almost ashamed there. Bert's eyes asked what he was afraid to. "Yea...turning tricks, prostituting, whatever you wanna call it. Wasn't terrible.... Damn, that sounds bad." Bert chewed his lip. "Enough about me, though. You don't wanna know about my fucked up life. What about you?" Bert looked down at his hands. Did he think that Bert was a prostitute too? "How'd you meet that psycho?" He asked, and Bert was thankful for the question, though he didn't appreciate the name-calling. Gerard wasn't psychotic, he was just... In control. "Trying to get into a bar," Bert said slowly. "He was just leaving as I was trying to get in.... Offered me a few drinks... Maybe more." Bert felt his chest get tighter. He missed Gerard. "He's not psychotic." he said quietly after a few minutes of silence. He saw Frank shake his head out of the corner of his eye. "He knew what I was. I thought he was just a normal client, offered me $500 up front. I guess there's always the possibility of creeps picking you up when you're a slut, but they normally don't look like him... And they don't smile the way he did... God damn it." Franks bound hands flew up to his head pulled harshly on his hair. "We're fucked, Bert. We're not getting out. We're not gonna--" Frank stopped talking suddenly. They could hear footsteps above them. Gerard was home. Bert helped Frank as he scramble back to his spot on the floor, put the gag back around his mouth and went back the bed. 

The door slammed open and Gerard came down the stairs quickly, just as Bert butt hit the mattress. His green eyes bore holes into Bert, then flicked to Frank, whose own eyes were frantic and scared, wide with panic. He tried to speak around his gag, the tone of his muffled voice obviously desperate. Gerard briskly walked to the bathroom, and returned  half a second later. Bert opened his mouth to speak, unsure of what he was going to say, but Gerard quickly crossed the room to him and firmly pressed a washcloth to his face. Bert screamed, noise muffled by the cloth. He went to scream again, but suddenly couldn't find the power to even sit up. His eyes rolled back into his head and he dropped back onto the bed, a boneless mass


	7. Chapter 7

The sharp stench of bleach pinched inside Bert's nose. His eyes fluttered open, quickly squeezing shut afterwards. The bright lights above him were too much for his eyes right now. He turned his head to the side and opened one eye. He was expecting to see Frank still sitting on the floor, but he wasn't. Where could he have gone? Why had Bert fallen asleep? He couldn't remember anything, but instead of seeing Frank in the corner, he found Gerard on all fours, shirt sleeves and jeans rolled up as he scrubbed at a spot on the floor. Gerard quickly got up from the floor, and began to sweep the bleach on the floor over to a drain in the middle of the room. Bert brought his bound hands up to his eyes and rubbed at them softly. Gerard caught the movement and stared intensely into Bert's eyes. His face was flushed, probably from the work he was doing. Bert knew he should be wondering why Gerard was bleaching the floor, but the way he looked at him made everything he should worry about fly out his ass. The slight bulge in his captor’s jeans made every care in the world dissipate until there was nothing left but Gerard. That look. It was love, wasn't it? It had to be! 

 

Bert sat up on the bed, his entire body ached. Unsure and uncaring of why, he just stared hopefully at Gerard. "Daddy is very tired." he spoke slowly, and Bert nodded slightly. Gerard crossed the room over to Bert, pushed him back on the bed. "He's had a very rough day." He grabbed Bert's hair roughly. "You want to make him feel better don't you?" Bert tried to nod. "DON'T YOU!" Gerard yelled, and Bert nodded quickly, pulling his hair in the process. He crawled up to straddle Bert's small hips. Gerard glared down at Bert, obviously angered by the lack of response he was getting. "You're being a very bad boy, Bert." At the sound of his name, Bert's heart fluttered. "I don't think you deserve your reward. No, not one bit." Bert whimpered, he wanted anything Gerard could give to him. Gerard tugged harshly on his hair again, Bert's scalp set fire. He let out a choked off noise, hands flying up to Gerard's hand around his hair. Gerard's eyes grew impossibly wide. Bert could have sworn he saw them flash red, just for a second. "DON'T YOU DARE." He yelled and let go of his hair. Instead he raised his hand behind his head, brought it down roughly to connect with Bert's cheek. A bright red hand print was left in its wake. "I-I'm sorry, D-D-D--" Gerard grabbed his neck, squeezing just enough. He leaned in close, hot breath on Bert's cold face. "Did I say you could speak?" Bert shook his head, tears slipping out of the corners of his eyes. Gerard took in a deep breath, almost breathing in Bert. 

 

"You want to help Daddy, don't you Bert??" He nodded quickly. "You're Daddy's little slut aren't you...You want to ride Daddy's big cock." Bert squirmed under Gerard's weight. There wasn't enough oxygen getting to his brain, and too much blood flowing to his nether regions. Gerard squeezed harder around his neck, Bert sputtered, trying to gasp for air, coughing roughly when Gerard let go. "Get undressed." Gerard commended and Bert struggled to get his jeans and T-shirt off with his hands tied. Gerard sighed impatiently, took a Swiss army knife from his back pocket and easily cut through the zip-ties. Bert quickly finished getting undressed as Gerard pulled a key from his pocket and unlocked a drawer in the desk. He came back with a pair of leather hand cuffs, put them on Bert, and instructed him to kneel on the side of the bed. He watched as Gerard stripped himself, awestruck. He almost drooled as Gerard walked over to him, half hard dick in his hand. Bert opened his mouth before being instructed, hungry for anything Gerard would give him. Gerard seemed shocked but still pressed the tip of his dick into Bert's pink tongue, rubbing it around for a few seconds before pushed deep into the back of Bert's throat. His throat contracted, gagged around him, pulling back to cough. Gerard tugged him back and thrust in with no restraint. Bert tried to hard not to gag, but did, and Gerard held him in place. His jaw ached, begging to close just as Gerard pulled back for a second. Bert happily took him back when he caught his breath, and sucked until Gerard told him to stop. 

 

"You're a dirty slut, aren't you Bert?" Gerard said as his laid on his back on the bed. Bert just stared back. "I don't think this is a good idea then. I might catch some disease from you. I honestly don't know how I stomach you half the time." He was joking right? Just some dirty talk. Bert knew he didn't truly mean all that, especially not when he beckoned him over to straddle his hips. Bert almost fell over trying to get to him quick enough. He sat up on his knees and Gerard lined himself up, roughly took Bert's hips. Bert was aching with anticipation, ready for the pain and the pleasure. While Gerard's cock was now hard as a rock, his own betrayed him, only slightly hard. 

 

Before Bert could realize it, Gerard was forcing his hips down. Going in dry?!! Bert panicked, he didn't want this anymore. No not like this. It wasn't supposed to happen like this. But it did, and Bert screamed the entire time Gerard forced himself in, the burn tearing him apart. Gerard's bone-crushing grip on his hips gave him no room to get away. Gerard was all the way in now, and Bert sobbed, his whole body throbbing. He could feel something warm and wet under his thighs, but wasn't sure exactly what it was. When he tilted his head down to look, he was stopped by Gerard's hand on his chin. His look said it all. "Stop blubbering, start moving now, or you'll be punished." 

 

How could he move ?! His entire body was on fire! Any movement would surely make it worse, unless...Of course that was what Gerard wanted. Bert sucked in his breath, and tried not to cry. Ten minutes of soft bouncing, clenching, and (despite his best attempts) crying later, Gerard came with a grunt. He was almost silent the entire time. Only speaking to tell Bert to "Shut the fuck up" or "Fucking MOVE!!" save for a few hisses when Bert clenched around him out of pain. 

 

When Gerard told him to get off, Bert learned what he had felt before was blood, now running down the back of his thighs mixed with Gerard's seed, and some sweat. Gerard's lower half and the sheets also had Bert's blood covering it. Bert let out a sob again, scared and shocked by the sight of that much of his own blood.

 

Gerard took him by the back of the neck, made him stand on terribly shaking legs, and led him up the stairs. He took him into the master bathroom. Bert was confused as to why he had come up here rather than use the bathroom in the basement, but when Gerard ran him a hot both, he didn't care. 

 

With his arms folded over the side of the porcelain tub, Bert was able to keep his ass in the water without painfully leaning on it. Gerard sat on a chair near the tub, already cleaned off and dressed. He gave Bert a warning before helping him to get out of the bath. "I expect you to be better next time." Bert's stomach dropped. In his mind, he couldn't even imagine a next time, but another smaller part of him couldn't wait for next time. "This was unacceptable." Everything felt cold now as the smaller part gained more volume in his brain; he had disappointed Gerard, and now he was angry with him. It was written all over his normally emotionless face. Bert could almost recognize disgust in those green eyes, so dark now.

 

“I-I’m sorry, Daddy, I d-didn’t mean to—“ He started, feeling the tell-tale sign of tears prickling in his sinuses. Somewhere deep inside his brain, a voice was shouting at him. ‘What are you apologizing for?! That man just ripped you open, made you bleed from the inside out and didn’t stop for a second to consider your tears.’ Bert ignored it, he knew that Gerard meant well. They had both wanted it, right? He wanted to make Bert feel good just as much as Bert wanted to make Gerard feel good. This was just the first time, they always say it’s not that great the first time. “I-I, I’ll be better next time I promise!” He blurted out despite Gerard’s warning looks after the first outburst of unapproved speaking. Gerard took him by the wrist and practically dragged him back to the door leading to the basement. He opened the door and put Bert on the first step, grabbed his hair roughly in his hand and forced him to look up at him. At first he didn’t speak, just stared down into his blue eyes, clenching his jaw. Bert thought he was going to hit him, but his face calmed after a few moments and Gerard smoothed down Bert’s wet hair, petting him softly.

 

“I’ll bring you down something to eat later. Don’t fall asleep. Don’t touch anything. I’m trusting you to leave you unrestrained down there. Do _not_  disappoint me, Bert.” With that he closed the door and Bert was left to walk down the stairs to the basement and sit with his own thoughts. As he sat, he noticed that there was nothing to tell time with in the room; no clocks or even windows even to see how light or dark it was outside. Bert lay on the lumpy bed staring up at the concrete ceiling. He sighed, not even ceiling tiles to count. Getting up, Bert walked around the small room for a while, tracing his fingers over the concrete walls, so cold and bare. He wished he had a sweatshirt or something while he was down here, it was so cold it made his toes turn an eerie blueish-grey color. His eyes scanned around the room, taking note again of the locked up fridge and desk. He had noticed them before but not really wondered what was in them. One could only assume (hope?) that there was food in the fridge, maybe just ice or such since this was the basement, but the desk was a complete mystery. His fingers lightly brushed over the beautiful mahogany, admiring the detail in the trim. He wondered where it had come from; Maybe a family heirloom? A great score at a yard sale? Bert’s mind skipped from one topic to another. Did Gerard go to yard sales? Did he ever just take a stroll around the block? He found it hard to picture, but thought maybe one day, he’d like to do those things with him. The idea excited and terrified him. To think of Gerard being loving towards Bert and trusting him enough to step outside with him make his heart jump into his throat, beating 40 times faster. He pushed aside the fear, saved it for night time when he was alone.

 

Still eyeing the magnificent wood of the desk, Bert’s delicate fingers traced of the slightly rusted metal where the key to unlock the drawers would go. He hooked his digits under the handle and pulled softly. Locked. Bert twisted his mouth, still terribly confused and curious. He tugged a bit harder, bracing himself on the side of the desk to get more leverage, but it wouldn’t move and only made a loud noise as the wood banged against the concrete wall. Bert froze, not moving a single inch, not even breathing. His head turned slowly to look towards the stairs. Gerard wasn’t there. Bert’s entire body calmed down so quickly he nearly fell to the floor. He had never felt so afraid of Gerard before, but the way he told him not to disappoint him just before, the look in his eyes, it terrified him. But Bert’s natural curiosity was just as quickly back in control; he grabbed hold of the handle once more, pressed his foot against the drawer underneath it and his hand above it, and tugged as hard as he could. The drawer shot open, and Bert was quick to keep it from falling off the hinges. His entire body tingled with excitement as he started to remove a grey metal box that was in it. He checked over his shoulder once, and was relieved that there was still no sign of Gerard. Fear prickled at the edge of his excitement as the thought entered his head: What would Gerard do to him if he found him here right now?

 

Ideas of just what he might do had to wait until later, though, as Bert had bigger things to do right now. He unhooked the latch for the metal box and removed the lid. Inside sat various little knick-knacks, things that had no significance to Bert, but might be very important to Gerard. Each little thing had a string attached to it and a little note. Bert took out the first thing to catch his eye: A pair of big gold hoop earrings. The note attached to them had a date, an amount time, and a number with a letter:

 

February 19, 2001

36 hours

#14 F 

 

Bert turned the earrings over and over in his hands. What could the earrings have meant to Gerard? Maybe they were his mother’s? Grandmother’s? And what did that note mean? Bert shook his head and placed them back into the box, deciding not to try and understand something that wasn’t meant for him to understand. Next he pulled out a note that had a little bag attached to it. He opened it and dumped the contents in his hand. At first it was just a bunch of metal, but Bert recognized them as body piercings after turning each thing over in his hand a few times. There were a bunch of rings; lip rings maybe, an eyebrow ring (Bert knew that one because one of his friends had forced him to go get his eyebrow pierced with him. It looked painful.), and probably a tongue ring, with a bunch of others that Bert didn’t know where they belonged. He put them all back in the bag and looked over at the note that went with that one.

 

 August 5, 2009

12 hours

#12 M 

The bag and its note went back in the box. Bert still didn’t understand whatever coding system Gerard had set up for this, but he thought he might if he looked at enough of them. Unfortunately, that would have to wait. Bert’s heart nearly stopped as he head the floor creak overhead, meaning Gerard was on the move. He scrambled to put the box back in the drawn and push it closed, but not all the way. He had just landed on the bed when the door at the top of the stairs opened and Gerard walked down the stairs.

 

“You’re not sleeping, now are you Bert?” He asked, and his voice was dripping with false love, but Bert let it register as real love.

 

“No, Sir.” Bert replied and sat up on the bed, hugging his knees to his chest. Gerard was carrying a bowl of something steamy and a glass of water. He placed the bowl in front of Bert’s bed on the floor and handed him the water. “Drink this first.” He commanded, and Bert downed the glass in record time. He hadn’t realized how thirsty he was until the source of his thirst was placed in his hands. Gerard then told him to sit on the floor and eat his soup, so that he couldn’t spill it on the bed like “the filthy animal you are.” Bert ignored the insult and sat on his knees at the foot of his bed, staring down at the soup, licking his lips slowly. Gerard stood over him, arms crossed over his chest and an unreadable look on his face.

 

“Go on then.” He boomed, nudging Bert’s leg with his shoe. “Eat it now or I’ll take it back. This is a reward, Bert. Not a handout. Now eat.” Bert looked up at Gerard and squeaked a reply.

 

“I—There’s no spoon.” He regretted it the second it left his mouth,

 

“Oh my, the poor baby wants a spoon does he? You weren’t _that_ good, Bert. Now I’ll tell you once more. Eat the soup now, or you won’t eat today or tomorrow.” Needless to say, Bert picked up the bowl and started slurping at the hot chicken soup, letting it dribble down his chin when he tipped the bowl forward too much. It was gone within minutes, and his body was starting to warm. “Good boy.” Gerard told him once the bowl was empty. Bert smiled up at him and Gerard commanded him to stand up. Once he was up Gerard had him by the hair, Bert only winced slightly. He pulled a handkerchief from his back pocket and roughly wiped it across Bert’s chin and neck. Bert left his mouth slack as he stared up at Gerard.

 

“Now, what am I going to do with you?” He said softly, tucking the cloth back into his pocket and letting his hand caress the side of Bert’s face. “I can’t teach you a new lesson unless I want your disgusting disease-ridden blood all over me again.” He sighed, looking almost upset at that. Gerard stared into Bert’s eyes hard for a long while, and Bert could almost see the gears turning behind those eyes, trying to think of something to do with his little pet. “Be careful Bert, you might become of no use to me soon.” He said finally, dropping his grip from his hair.  He commanded Bert back onto his bed, lying on his back with his arms above his head. Gerard moved over to the desk and Bert’s heart nearly stopped, only to start beating back at full force when Gerard passed over the drawer Bert had pried open and opened a drawer on the opposite side of it instead. He came back with a new pair of handcuffs, some leather strap with a red ball on it, and two long pieces of cloth. Bert could only imagine what he was going to be doing to him tonight.

 

 Gerard moved Bert around on the bed to where he wanted him, hand cuffing his left hand to the headboard. Bert was like a doll to Gerard, free for tie up pose and toss around however he wanted. And tonight, he wanted him spread eagle on his back with a ball gag shiny with spit in his mouth. Bert was stuck in this position, whimpering quietly and fisting the sheets under him because he just didn’t know what to do with himself. Gerard had pulled a chair up next to the bed and was staring at him angrily. He let out a loud sigh and reclined in the chair, putting his long legs up on the edge of the bed and folding his arms behind his head. “Bert.” He said and the boy’s head snapped to attention, looking at him intently. Gerard smiled devilishly at that.

 

 “Now, Bert.” He said, scooting his chair closer. “I want you to do something for me tonight and if you do not follow my directions exactly…” He stopped, maybe to think of a perfect punishment, or just for dramatic effect. “Then I’m going to cut one of your toes off.” He finished and if Bert could have opened his mouth any further than it was forced open right now, he would have gaped. Surely, he had to be joking around, Bert thought. No one would seriously cut someone else’s toe off…. The look on Gerard's face said not to try and question it. Bert nodded and wiggled his hips to try and get in a more comfortable position. Gerard settled back in his seat and looked at Bert out of the corner of his eye with such boredom; he thought maybe he would just leave him here rather than whatever he was planning on having him do.

 

“Masturbate for me.” He said plainly and Bert made this sort of high pitched sound in his throat. “Did I stutter?” Gerard snapped, and Bert shook his head quickly. “You should be _thanking_  me Bert! You think I don’t know that you haven’t come in the entire time I’ve had you? This is a gift. And I’m expecting the favor returned as soon as I’m sure your ass wont bleed all over me.” With that Gerard nodded at Bert’s hand and told him to get a move on, that he didn’t have all night.

 

Bert brought his shaking hand over to his stomach, sliding it down to his soft member. His fingers were like ice, and somehow, that turned him on. He closed his eyes and wrapped a hand around himself. Just as Bert was thinking about how he wished he could spit in his hand or something, Gerard was grabbing his hand and spitting into it. It was disgusting, but thoughtful. He took advantage of the momentary heat, and started pumping his hand as quick as he could, trying to get some blood to flow into the nether regions of his body. Gerard growled at him to slow down, and Bert almost didn’t listen, but he reluctantly slowed his hand. Gerard growled again for him to squeeze harder, and Bert moaned the second he did. He hadn’t done this in so long, and everything was starting to feel amazing again.

 

Within a three more minutes of his slow, hard pumping, Bert was arching off the bed and moaning like a whore. Spit was dribbling down his chin in a steady steam, making his lips and cheeks glisten in the dim lighting. Gerard growled out a command and it was lost in Bert’s moans. He said it again, but Bert was whining higher and thrusting into his hand. Gerard got up and grabbed Bert roughly by the shoulders, making his eyes snap open. “Don’t you dare fucking come.” He said, and his eyes were dark. Bert stared up into his eyes, trying to keep himself from crying, but his hand had stopped moving and his heart rate was slowing and Bert couldn’t help himself from sobbing right then and there. Gerard didn’t say anything, but unbuckled the ball gag, untied his legs and arm, and left Bert there, a sobbing mess. 


	8. Chapter 8

Days and days passed, completely normal and without incident. The weather outside was beginning to warm up, edging into the beginning of March; though Bert was unaware of it. The basement was just as cold as it was in the middle of February when he’d first gotten there. There was no perception of time under Gerard’s house. It felt like it had been months since Bert had been first taken by Gerard.

 

Some nights, Bert let his mind drift back to the foggy memory of that night. His brain compared how he remembered Gerard that night, and how he looked now; the beautiful, pale, green-eyed mysterious guy outside a club turned lover (captor?) with dark eyes that almost never looked as green as that first night. If Bert’s mind wasn’t warped and bent in the way Gerard had wanted, he would have noticed how Gerard’s temperament had changed with Bert in the time he’d had him. In the beginning, he was soothing, coaxing Bert into relaxing into him, giving him this false sense of trust, friendship even; tricking Bert into loving him. The way he spoke to Bert had changed the most. In the beginning Gerard had said some kind words, complimented him when he did something good for his captor. Almost every other sentence directed at Bert now was an insult, on the rare occasion Gerard spoke directly at Bert.

 

In the past few weeks, Bert heard Gerard upstairs, talking, opening and closing doors, though he rarely came down other than to give Bert a meal. Once he thought he heard him crying. He had crawled halfway up the stairs in hand and knee, whimpering helplessly at the door at the top, reaching a hand out, wishing to go soothe the man he loved. The wood on a step creaked when Bert went back down, followed but the sound of heavy footsteps and the door to the basement flying open. Gerard beat him until the muscles in his arms ached; Bert apologized when he was done. He woke up in the morning to glass of water, two ibuprofen, and a microwave waffle, and no Gerard to be found.

 

Bert knew this because he’d bravely ventured up the stairs of the basement. He wanted to thank Gerard for his fully belly and apologize for the blood on the floor, but there was no one there. Not in the kitchen, nor the bathroom, or the main room. Gerard’s house was all one floor, the only room he hadn’t looked in was what he assumed was Gerard’s bedroom. Even the thought of going in there made his knees wobble and his stomach threaten to reject that waffle, so he left it alone. Anyway, he figured if Gerard were in there he would have already come out and ordered Bert back down stairs.

 

The kitchen floors were heated. Bert decided he had never felt something as amazing as heated tile floors. He let his icicle toes warm up, wiggling them and smiling as they regained some human color to them. Sprawled out of the floor, he felt so calm and serene; almost worried his muscles might just melt inside his skin. He stayed there for maybe ten minutes, until his skin was warm and his cheeks were flushed. Bert climbed to his feet and stretched his sore (not melted) muscles. He had bruises on his arms and back, one on his jaw and under his left eye. He was sore, of course, but it didn’t hurt. He knew Gerard did it for a reason and that was enough to soothe the pain. His ribs, though, had endured the blunt of Gerard’s fury last night. The entire right side of his rib cage screamed when he lifted his arm above his head, and from what he could see, the bruise there was something out of a horror movie. If he tried hard enough, he could ignore the pain, even when the ibuprofen started to wear off.

 

\-----

 

After a short expedition in the main room, Bert went back into the basement. The house was full of furniture, sure, but none of it was exceptionally special, sort of old-fashioney. Not quite what Bert thought Gerard would have picked out for his home. He wondered if maybe the place came furnished, he had heard of that happening before. There weren’t any pictures or paintings on the wall, nor a box for letters like Bert’s mom always kept by the front door. He had always forgot to put the mail in there though, leaving it lying somewhere around their messy home when he would come home from school on the rare days he actually attended. It all seemed sort of odd, but Bert didn’t think about it too much. He had learned not to question too many things about Gerard, it only made his head hurt.

 

Back down stairs it was at least 20 degrees colder. Bert curled up under the thin sheet on his creaky bad and tried to relax. All the moving around he had done was making his ribs shout at him again. He wished he could have found more pain killers, but doubted Gerard would leave them out around his home. He shivered slightly under the thing blanket and closed his eyes, but sleep escaped him. Something in his mind was nagging at him, trying to remind him of something he couldn’t put his finger on. Bert sighed and turned on his stomach, opened his eyes and nearly slapped himself for not remembering. The barely cracked open drawer of the wooden desk stared back at him. How long had it been since he had looked through it? Weeks? He couldn’t remember but before he realized it Bert was off the bed and pulling the drawer out again, pulling out the box of various items he’d already snooped through, and a note card holder, like the ones his teachers sometimes had on their desks at his old school, and bringing them back to the bed. He opened the box of trinkets first.

 

The first thing to catch his eye this time was a gold tooth -- of all things. When he pulled it out, there were actually two of them strung together through little holes drilled through them.  Bert stared at them, confused. These couldn’t be Gerard’s, he wasn’t missing any teeth, and Bert was pretty sure he didn’t wear false teeth. A weird cold chill ran down Bert’s spine as he placed the teeth back into the box without looking at the note, teeth were just plain creepy. Next was a string with two wedding bands hanging from it; his hands shook like tree branches in the wind. Was Gerard…married? He held the rings delicately, fingering the shiny metal. They looked almost like new, not worn down with age and devotion. The inside of each band was engraved with a small heart, one with an A next to it and one with an M. There was no way they could belong to Gerard, no way that he was married. There were no photos of a wedding hanging proudly on the wall, no womanly touch around the home. Gerard was too young to have been married and divorced. Bert practically threw the rings back in the box, closing the lid and moving the box as far away from him without putting it on the floor.

 

The note card holder took his attention then. The lid folded back, spreading the cards out to be leafed through. He picked up a random card and brought it close to his face, looking at the neat hand writing that fit perfectly into blue lines of the card. A capital ‘M’ was written at the top of the card followed by the same sequence of words that were on the tags in the other box on the line directly under it.

 

February 19th, 2012

18 hours

#16 

 

There was about a paragraph of writing underneath that but Bert flipped the card over and eyes it before reading on. The date was much more recent than any of the ones he had looked at in the box. Granted, he hadn’t taken the time to sort through every single thing in that box, but it was odd of him to have picked this one up first. He flipped the card back over and began to read, mumbling the words under his breath as he went.

 

_Approximately 21 years old, picked up in Reno, Nevada…_

 

Was that where they were? Nevada? Bert furrowed his brows and continued to read.

 

_…Under the influence of several drugs—undetermined. Suspected prostitute; came back to my car with the offer of $500…_

 

Nothing was making sense. Was Gerard a cop? There was no way; he was home too much to be a police officer…

_...seized with choloroform, bound and gagged. Unconscious for 3 and one half hours, awake for one half hour before forced to perform oral sex. +15 minutes, dismembered in this order: Head, left art at shoulder, right arm at shoulder, left leg at knee, right leg at knee, then both legs at hip. Torso bisected horizontally, left and right arms bisected at eblow. Left eye removed and filed in freezer compartment 4M. Lip and nose rings removed and tagged under #16 M. Pronounced dead at 9:37:18 PM. Placed in basement bathtub in order of disnmemerent then covered in Hydrochloric Acid._

Bert felt sick. What the fuck was this? His stomach lurched but Bert couldn’t stop looking at the card shaking in his hand. He swallowed the bile rising in his throat and picked up another sheet of paper folded in quarters in the same small folder of the card holder that the note card was in. It looked like an autopsy report, basic shape of a human body with dashed red maker lines where the card had said the body was dissected. There were more numbers written on the top of that sheet and the eyes on the body were colors in green. Bert folded the page with shaking hands and put it and the note card back into the holder. 

His entire body was shaking. Bert placed both boxes back into the drawer and closed it slowly. Just before the wood of the drawer met the base of the desk, the light reflected off of something in the corner of the drawer. Bert stopped and pulled the drawer out a little more, leaning down and turning his head to what had caught the light.

“What…the fuck…” Bert whispered as he picked up a small padlock key, holding it in front of his face. His head immediately flicked over to the fridge, bolted shut with a… “Padlock….” Bert Crawled off the bed, ignoring the searing pain in his ribs, and slowly made his way to the fridge at the other side of the room. His knees shook violently and he could hardly keep his hands stead as he grabbed the lock on the fridge and put the key into the slot.

He hadn’t heard the front door open and close.

He hadn’t heard Gerard’s heavy footsteps above him.

He didn’t hear the door at the top of the stairs open at the same time the lock opened and fell to the floor.

Bert heard Gerard’s feet land on the concrete floor. He heard his screams.

“What the fuck do you think you’re fucking doing?!”

 

### 


	9. Chapter 9

Gerard wasn’t an outcast growing up. Sure, he got picked on some times and wasn’t the most popular boy, but he had a few nice friends and a nice enough home life. He didn’t have terrible grades in high school, got into a good 2 year college and graduated in the grey area of his class. He was smart; of course, brilliant even, but Gerard never found any motivation. He was always off day dreaming in class, scribbling down half of the notes the teachers assigned. The few friends he had called him a space case half the time, figuring he was dreaming about his girlfriend (yes, girlfriend) or some stupid comic he was reading that day. If only they had known what went on in Gerard’s feeble teenaged mind.

\------

 

The first time Gerard killed a living thing, he was ten, and it was completely unintentional.

His childhood home in upstate New York was right by a lake where the neighborhood children used to play in the summer. It never froze over hard enough to skate on like in the movies, something that upset Gerard enough that he had an entire fit about it after watching a movie where a boy went skating on the lake in the back of his house. There were always tons little creatures around, frogs, fish, birds up in the tall, green trees, the occasional graceful doe wandering around in the early hours of the morning. Frogs were most common though, and Gerard positively hated them. He hated their skin, the noise they made, how their throats inflated like birthday balloons, and especially how they hopped. There wasn’t a reason as to why he hated them, they had never done anything bad to him; he just did.

In late June of his tenth year, Gerard was let to go down to the lake by himself. Normally his mother wouldn’t let him venture off alone, but Gerard stomped his feet and cross his arms and pouted until his mom gave in. Perhaps that could have been a cause of how Gerard is today; his mother was protective of him, but once he stomped one little foot at her, she crumbled. He was used to getting his way, and didn’t always take advantage of it, but knew that it was always up his sleeve.

 A group of older children were playing there, most of them 2 or 3 years older than him. When Gerard got closer, taking his time to walk down the hill so he wouldn’t fall, he saw them all standing in a circle around something. Gerard pushed his way into the circle, nudging and hips and shoulders until he could get to the innermost ring of it all. In the middle of the circle of feet, on the muddy ground, sat a frog the size of a softball, croaking and sitting like a statue amongst the lines of dirty sneakers.

“That’s disgusting.” Gerard spat, glaring down at the frog. A few kids mumbled in agreement. They all stood there watching the frog for another ten minutes before some of them started walking away, bored by the unentertaining frog. Eventually, Gerard was left alone with it while the other kids played ball and cards further from the shore of the lake. He spat on the frog and it didn’t move. He growled at it and bared his teeth; but the frog stayed still and let out a long ‘ribbit’. Gerard had finally had enough of this stupid disgusting mistake of nature. He took a step back, cocked his leg behind him and punted the frog 15 feet onto the dirt. Head’s snapped to look and a collective gasp came from the surrounding children who stared the lifeless frog plop onto the hard floor.  Gerard just stared as several of them moved to kneel by the frog, one boy poking it with a stick. Someone squealed and the boy with the stick called out “It’s dead!” and walked away.

After a few minutes the kids all went back to what they were doing and forgot about Gerard and the frog. Gerard ran home while no one was looking, stumbling up the hill until he got to the top. After dinner he went up to his room and drew a picture of the frog with the crayons he got for his birthday. He drew himself standing triumphantly over the frog and wrote underneath it, “Stupid frog: kicked 100000 feet to death by Gerard Arthur way” with the date underneath that. He folded it up in half twice and then tucked it under his mattress before bed. He never told him mom he killed a frog, but then again, she never asked.

 

\-----

 

As years progressed, Gerard found an interest in killing things. It never seemed strange to him, he knew the bible told him not to kill people, but that didn’t count for animals, right? He only killed frogs for a long time, sometimes hanging them upside down from their legs before killing them. When he was 11, he cut the frogs limbs off of its body before killing it entirely with his mom’s good meat knife. He always made sure to clean it off and put it exactly back where he found it when he was done.

In middle school Gerard’s science class had to dissect a frog for a project grade. Gerard threw up and had to go home. He told his mom he hated frogs and didn’t want to see their disgusting guts, she made a phone call to the school and had a big argument with the science department’s chairperson. She closed the door of her bedroom so Gerard wouldn’t hear but he caught a few words like, “Disgrace to humanity”, “torture”, and “disgusting”. Gerard liked that last one the best. He was excused from the project but almost failed the course that year. After that incident, though, he had to find something else to kill to take up his time.

Gerard tried to catch a fish in the lake, but fell in on accident and got mud in his new shoes, making them smell like lake water so badly he had to throw them away. He couldn’t climb any of the trees to try and catch a bird in its nest, and snakes terrified him.  Gerard was afraid he might never get to kill something again, and his life started to feel very dull and boring without the rush he got from it. He sat around moping all day, uninterested, and even stopped eating for a little while.

Gerard’s mother, being the protective, mama-bear type she was, assumed her son was depressed and panicked. She bought him a rabbit, trying to bring her melancholy son a little bit of joy. Gerard thanked his mother, kissed her cheek, and brought the rabbit upstairs in its cage.

It smelled like grass and wild onions and made scratching noises the entire night. When he woke up, it just sat in its cage wiggling its nose, making small noises. It wasn’t like a dog that was happy to see you, or even a cat that would come up and say hello. This… poor excuse for a pet just sat there in its own little world. It was worse than the frog, and made Gerard’s chest tighten and his hands curl into fists at his sides. With the cage’s leather handle gripped tightly in Gerard’s tight, sweaty, fist, the boy told his mother he was taking his new pet to the field to feed it some wild flowers and play with it. She was busy on the phone with a friend and simply waved him off with a small smile before going back to her conversation. Needless to say, he took her good meat knife while her back was turned.

He didn’t come home until it was just before dinner time, that purpley dusk time where the sun is just about to go down over the horizon. His mom didn’t realize the bunny’s cage was empty when she told him to wash up for dinner, nor did she notice the blood dried under his fingernails and cuticles that he just couldn’t get out by the lake. Though, that was all washed away by the time Gerard came padding down the stairs for dinner, sadly informing his parents that he had lost the rabbit in the field and was afraid he might never come back. His mom wanted to get him a new one, but his father told him this was part of growing up, and that rabbits were wild animals and belonged in their natural habitats. He said that while looking at Gerard’s mom and she rolled her eyes and him and softly rubbed Gerard’s arm.

She bought him another rabbit.

\-----

 

During Gerard’s two years at the community college, he committed his first murder. He definitely hadn’t planned on it, completely content with his lifestyle of killing small animals, until it happened. He had stayed in his home with his mom for the first year of classes, telling her that he didn’t really care about dorms, and that it would only cost her more money. The second year, though, she insisted, and wouldn’t take no for an answer. He started classes in a small, dingy dorm room with a roommate that played guitar all the time. He was good at his instrument, Gerard could admit that, but he didn’t want to hear him all the time. And he most definitely didn’t want to smell his hair bleach every two weeks when he decided he needed to fry his hair some more.

The guy, Quinn, also had a tendency to sneak girls back to their dorm room at night when he thought Gerard was sleeping. He wondered if the dimwit thought he couldn’t hear the cheap bed springs creaking louder than thunder. Gerard was lucky to get 3 hours of sleep at night due to him, and in turn fell asleep in his first class almost every day.  He couldn’t possibly understand how this guy got into this university, even if it was a state university. All he did was go to on-campus parties and Gerard had never once seen him attending a class. If he wasn’t kicked out soon, Gerard didn’t know if he would be able to deal with him much longer.

The two boys never spoke much, once in a while, a giggly girl would wave at Gerard and ask Quinn who his roommate was, to which he would reply, “Oh, Gerard? He’s fuckin’ weird, don’t worry ‘bout it.” Gerard couldn’t figure out if he thought he couldn’t hear him properly, or just didn’t care at all.

One night, nearing finals, Gerard was studying at his desk for his biology test the next day as Quinn came stumbling into the room, knocking over a stack of untouched books from his own desk. He was laughing at nothing—or something Gerard wasn’t aware of—and leaning at an unholy angle. It was safe to say that Quinn was completely hammered.

“Don’t you have a final tomorrow?” Gerard grumbled and buried his head deeper into his textbook.

“Don’t you h-have a fuck off t’morrow?” Quinn mocked as he fell onto Gerard’s bed, sloshing some of the beer from the can in his hand onto Gerard’s blankets. “Get off my bed.” Gerard warned unenthusiastically, glaring at the inebriated boy. He didn’t respond. “Quinn, get off my bed.” Gerard repeated more fiercely, shoving the wooden chair he was sat in back from the desk, its legs scraping obnoxiously on the floor. Quinn whined and grumbled something unintelligible then waved a barely responsive hand in the air, probably trying to wave off Gerard. Gerard stood up from the desk and started towards his bed. “Quinn, get the fuck up!” He yelled and the beer in Quinn’s hand fell to the floor, spilling its remains onto the woven area rug.  Gerard’s fists clenched at his sides and he grit his teeth, Quinn started snoring.

He was passed out. On Gerard’s bed.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Gerard growled. Quinn rolled over and drooled onto Gerard’s pillow. That was the last straw; Quinn had effectively killed off every single one of Gerard’s nerves for that guy, he was seeing red. Before he could even comprehend what he was doing, Gerard shoved open the window between the two beds so hard that the frames shook. He grabbed Quinn under the arms, thankful for how much thinner he was than Gerard despite all the empty calories he took in every day. Quinn was still mumbling in a sleepy stupor as Gerard dragged him to the window and shoved him out of it. He was silent the entire four story drop until the sickly crack echoed out into the night as he hit the pavement below. Gerard’s breathing slowed and he calmed down.

Realization set in almost immediately. He had just killed someone. A real human, not a frog, or a rabbit, or a cat or mouse; a living breathing human being. His body started shaking uncontrollably, starting in his hands then moving throughout his entire body. He didn’t feel bad, not exactly, it was more fear than anything.

Gerard slowly walked down to his Dorm Advisor’s room, trembling like a scared animal, and broke into—possibly forced—tears in front of him. Brian, the DA quickly pulled him into the room and asked what was wrong. Gerard sniffled and wiped his nose on the back of his sleeve, leaving a shiny line of mucus. It took a long minute to speak after he opened his mouth, not even feeling his lips moving as the words slipped his mouth.

“My roommate just jumped out of the window.”

\-----

 

Gerard left on-campus living after finals that year, finishing out his last year at the university at home. His mother apologized for days after she got news of what had happened to her poor son, and let him stay home before his finals.

“It’s such a shame,” Gerard heard his mother whispering into the phone a few days after he had been home. “The boy was drunk as a skunk. They said his blood alcohol level was at .29….” She sniffled into the phone. “The pressures of finals must have gotten to the poor boy, I’m just glad my Gerard isn’t that easily impressionable…”

He was questioned for a little while the day after it happened. He answered with simple answers, lying through his teeth with ease.

“Quinn came back drunk a lot… He cried in his sleep but I didn’t try to confront him about it, I thought it was none of my business.” After being asked what Quinn was like.

“I tried to talk to him when he came home, but he was really upset and said he wanted to die…” After being asked what had happened that night. “We were just starting to be friends…” Gerard whimpered, wiping at his eyes, there were no further questions.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The End.

Bert woke up on his bed. He hadn’t remembered going back to the creaky bed, but as he tried harder, he couldn’t remember much of anything. His head felt like there was a weird mist covering everything, making it hard to work out details and time. All he knew is that there was a hard throbbing at the back of his head where it felt hot and cold at the same time, sort of a weird wet feeling. He wanted to try and touch it to see if it really was wet, but he couldn’t really feel the rest of his body except for his right shoulder blade that was shouting at him almost as much as his head. He tried to lift his head just to make sure that his body was actually still there, as absurd as it sounded, but found it difficult to lift his head. Bert lay still for a long time then, just staring at the ceiling. After some amount of time (it was still hard to tell) Bert felt his fingers twitching at his sides, and his toes wiggling a bit. He sighed with relief softly, thankful that he hadn’t been paralyzed or something. Would Gerard still love him if he were paralyzed?

The thought of Gerard sparked something bright behind the fog in his head. He tried hard to figure out what it was he was supposed to be remembering about him. Looking for the thought felt like trying to swim in honey, getting nowhere fast. Just as he was about to give up, the door at the top of the stairs clicked open slowly, but no one’s shoes connected with the top step, there was just silence. Bert tried to lift his head and see if Gerard was there, but as soon as the muscles in his neck started working to lift his heavy skull, he felt like he was on fire. Bert winced and hissed, trying to lift his arms to touch his head and find out why he was in so much pain, but he realized they were tied to the side of the bed with a thick cloth quickly. Footsteps started down the stairs, but Bert didn’t look to see who it was, focusing on tugging on the ties around his wrists, panic filling him.

Gerard sat in the chair next to Bert’s bed, but Bert didn’t look at him for a while, still focusing on the ties. When he did look, his eyes weren’t as scared as he had felt before. Gerard was here now, and he was safe. When he hadn’t heard anyone come down the stairs at first, he had assumed the worst that someone he didn’t know was here, and Gerard was not. That some stranger had tied him to his bed and was going to hurt him. Bert wanted to scream at the thought of seeing anyone else but Gerard, and something felt very wrong about that, but he didn’t know what. Now that Gerard was sitting beside him, his pulse slowed and he stopped pulling at his restraints. Maybe Gerard was going to touch him today, he hadn’t done so in a long time, and Bert hadn’t dared touch himself in that time. He suddenly wanted very badly to kneel at his lover’s feet and hug his legs. He knew that was a very bad thing, but it was all he wanted right now. Gerard sniffled a bit and Bert struggled to turn his head and look at him. He settled for just straightening his head up towards the ceiling again.

From the corner of his eye, Bert could see Gerard’s black jeans and white dress shirt. He loved it when Gerard wore dress shirts, normally he would only wear t-shirts or sweatshirts around the house. Was today a special occasion, maybe? He could just barely see an unbuttoned waistcoat on him too, but he couldn’t be sure. Gerard stared down at Bert without speaking for a long time, shifting positions on the metal chair over and over for a while, before scooting forward and putting his hands on the side of the bed. “Bert.” He said. His voice sounded wrecked, like he had been screaming for hours on top of smoking 6 packs of cigarettes. He didn’t smell like smoke, though, which made Bert wonder if maybe he _was_ yelling. Gerard sniffled again and cleared his throat.

“Bert.” He started again, his voice pointed. He wanted Bert to look at him, Bert knew from his tone. He sucked in a deep breath and used all of his willpower not to cry while trying to turn his head in Gerard’s direction. It took at least 4 minutes, but he accomplished it and was met with a small smile of Gerard’s lips. That was all he could focus on at that point. Everything looked dark and faded besides Gerard’s tight-lipped smile. Gerard’s hand reached out to Bert’s head, hovering in the air for a minute, it was trembling. He rested his hand softly on Bert’s head, which sent a stabbing, piercing pain through his brain, but he ignored it. Gerard’s hand was rough and calloused like always, and so, so warm. His thumb twitched like he wanted to caress Bert’s brow, but he didn’t.

“Bert…” He said again, but it was softer, not a command; a tone Bert had never heard from his lovers lips. It made his stomach flutter uneasily, but he tried it smile back at Gerard. “C’mere, let me help you sit up.”

It took a lot of effort on both parts for Bert to get into an upright position, sitting with his knees up, hunched over slightly. Gerard loosened the ties on Bert’s legs but not on his wrists, still tight against the frame, making his arms stretch a little painfully. Bert was sort of out of breath by the time he was upright, a little bit of sweat dotting his forehead. He saw Gerard look down behind him and sort of frown and cringe. Bert bit his lip and turned his head slowly. His pillow was covered in deep red blood. Bert flinched and looked desperately at Gerard, whose face was almost blank except for this weird twinkling in his eye that Bert couldn’t figure out. Bert could never figure him out!

“I-Is that m…” Bert started, completely forgetting his rules. Gerard didn’t stop staring at the pillow with that same expression. Bert wanted to scream, he felt it building in his chest, prickling behind his lips, pushing and pushing begging to come out. He’d wanted to scream for so long; since he first stopped screaming that first day. The feeling came and went but it was always there, lingering in his ribcage. Gerard’s eyes met his and he pushed the feeling down. No, Gerard pushed it down, with that look, those eyes that told Bert that he would make it okay, or he would make Bert believe it was okay.

“I wish I could give you a bath, Bert.” Gerard said, his voice still soft. It was starting to feel a little strange with Gerard speaking so kindly and sweetly. “You look so good.” He whispered.

Bert imagined what he must look like right now, slumped over himself, wrists and ankles ties down. His skin was probably some disgusting combination of colors from all the bruises, especially the monstrous one on his ribs, his hair sticky and matted with the blood that was on the pillow, maybe it was on his face or his shoulders too. But Gerard said he looked good. Gerard always thought he looked good, right? Gerard kept repeating himself, whispering over and over how good Bert looked. Bert’s face flushed pink and he looked away.

“This is all your fucking fault.” Gerard said out of nowhere. His voice was hard again. Bert looked up again and he had his head in his hands, fingers knotted into his black hair, pulling at it.

“Gera—“ Bert tried.

“Quiet!” Gerard exploded. He stood up from the chair and started pacing around the room. His whole body seemed to be twitching, angry, his head was still down. “This is all your fucking fault. I should have gotten rid of you while I had the fucking chance. You were too fucking good. Too god damned fucking good, and you fucking killed us!!” Gerard was rambling, ranting on and on and Bert understood nothing. Tears pricked at Bert’s eyes, threatening to well up and spill.

Gerard came back over to the bed. He crawled onto it and got into Bert’s face. “I wasn’t supposed to keep you this long.” His lips were so close to Bert’s; he could feel his hot breath, taste him on his tongue. He smelt like… Beer.

“Are you drunk?” Bert whispered. Gerard cocked his hand back and slapped him so hard his neck cracked. Bert let out a yelp and kept his mouth shut. Gerard took his face in one hand, squeezing so that his lips jut out. “Is that really any of your business now, Bert?” He asked. Bert shook his head painfully which made Gerard smile. He sat back on Bert’s legs, forcing them down straight which made the ties pull painfully at his legs. “You just had to go and make this more difficult didn’t you? Didn’t you?!” Bert started to sob, “I’m sorry!”

“Shut up!” Gerard boomed. He climbed off of Bert and paced around at the foot of the bed for a few seconds. “Just fucking shut up, Bert! We can’t stop now. It’s out of my hands, Bert. This is all your fucking fault. You couldn’t have just gone like the rest of them.” Bert sobbed harder. He had done something wrong, that much he knew. Gerard was beyond angry with him, practically red in the face. What could he have done wrong? Bert’s head was throbbing and it felt like someone was going at it with a sledge hammer as hard as they could. His vision felt like it was vibrating every time the sledge hammer hit.

A police siren wailed outside, fading quickly as it sped down the road. Gerard’s head snapped up towards the door at the top of the stairs. When he looked back at Bert his eyes were so dark and wide they threatened to swallow his entire face into a black hole. Bert tried to stop his tears, his chest heaving and mouth quivering. Gerard went over to the dresser, digging a key out of his pocket. That feeling stabbed at Bert’s chest again. Remember, remember…. Gerard pulled out a black box and came back to sit on the metal chair by the bed. Another police siren blared.

“You were my favorite, Bert.” Gerard said with his head down. The box rested in his lap, he was cradling it like a child. It was smooth, probably made of wood, and Bert could hear something heavy moving around in it when Gerard had taken it out. “That’s why I kept you so long. You were so perfect. Oh god, so fucking good, Bert. Look at yourself.” Bert looked down at himself. He didn’t feel good. He didn’t feel anything good at all. He wanted to throw up. Bert started crying again. The sirens were closer now. Something was very wrong.

“I could have done it so many times before this. I should have. It would have been so easy. It would have been easier in the end.” His voice was so calm now. He opened the box and looked down into it, Bert couldn’t see in it though. When Gerard looked back up, he was crying. “It’ll be okay, Bert.” He told him. Bert believed him despite the gnawing feeling in his stomach. “It’ll be okay, baby.” He was crying, but it was okay.

“I’m gonna untie you, okay? You won’t leave me right baby?” Bert nodded at him, there was something dripping down his back. The rest of the world was empty except for Gerard. His hands were on the ties around his wrists, so soft and warm. The warmth of his hands felt like it was spreading over all of Bert’s body. He hadn’t even realized that his wrists were free until he was rubbing them absently, urging blood back into the veins. Dogs were barking outside, a lot of them. Gerard untied Bert’s wrists and sat back in his chair with the box. “It’s gonna be okay.” He said again. It was gonna be okay.

Gerard had Bert face him on the bed and close his eyes. He kissed him so gently, like rose petals on his lips and told him he was his favorite again. “It’s gonna be okay.” He repeated. There was the sound of the box being placed on the floor, Police sirens outside, incoherent yelling, and those dogs. Bert had a dog as a kid, he remembered, a yorkie that his dad named Yapper. These dogs sounded bigger; Police dogs.

Gerard took Bert’s hand and put something heavy and metal in it. “It’s gonna be okay.” He moved his arm straight out until it connected with some part of Gerard’s body, his head by the height of it probably. “It’s gonna be okay.” Something cold was pressed against Bert’s forehead, he kept his eyes closed.

“Bert?” Gerard said. He was crying, Bert knew he was crying. “It’s gonna be okay, Bert, listen to me,” Bert knew Gerard was lying. “One the count of three you’re gonna squeeze your hand as hard as you can. It’s gonna be okay.” It wasn’t going to be okay. There was a loud thud from upstairs and more yelling. Gerard flinched. “Ready?” He was sobbing.

“Ready.” Bert didn’t know if was talking out loud anymore. He felt so warm and almost like he was wet.

“One…” One.

“Two…” Two.

“ _Three._ ”

 

**The End**


End file.
